


Grounding

by yeaka



Category: Travelers (TV)
Genre: M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 14:52:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21038000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Trevor clarifies the timeline.





	Grounding

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Travelers or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

“That’s exactly why we’d need to make sure we’d be outside the blast radius,” Trevor is saying, pouring over the technicalities of an intricate plan that wasn’t explained anywhere near well enough. When the boss arrives, it should be easier to work out for themselves, but until then, they’re just spit balling ideas. Marcy’s tied up with David and Carly’s who knows where, but given that they don’t need to take out the downtown library until the end of the week, they’ve got plenty of time. Besides, Philip enjoys hanging out with _just Trevor_, even if most of that time gets eaten up with shoptalk.

“But that’s the problem,” Philip counters. “If we’re too far away, we won’t be able to do a proper sweep and know if—”

He cuts off when the washroom door slides open. He doesn’t remember anyone else coming by. Trevor strolls out of the washroom, yawning and scratching at his stomach. His baggy hoodie’s lopsided, his sweatpants hanging low. Philip could’ve sworn that Trevor was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved shirt.

“Philip?”

Philip’s head whirls back to the Trevor standing next to him, the one he’s mid-conversation with. That Trevor looks concerned, but the one in front of the washroom calls, “Hey, Phil—do you wanna catch a movie?”

_Wanna catch._ It’s so... colloquial. They really are becoming ingrained in the twenty-first. Philip _does_ want to ‘catch a movie’—he wants to curl up on the couch with Trevor and ignore the ever-present itch under his skin. He doesn’t want to worry about the future, but instead get lost in a fictional menagerie of zombies and aliens. 

The first Trevor grabs him. Philip’s pulled in so close that his chair wheels forward. Trevor’s fingers slide back into his hair, tilting and lifting his chin up. Trevor’s mouth presses into his, a warm tongue prying at his lips. Philip opens half in surprise, half in a moan. Trevor fills him up and gently thumbs his cheek. His eyes fall closed. Nothing else matters.

He doesn’t open them again until Trevor slowly pulls away. Still close enough to feel his breath, Trevor murmurs, “Stay with me, Philip. Stay in _this_ world.”

Philip numbly nods. This has to be the real one. It feels so concrete. Trevor’s touch magnifies a multitude of senses—he can smell the sweat from Trevor’s run, see every little pore on Trevor’s face, hear Trevor’s shallow breathing, and taste Trevor on his tongue. In his peripherals, the other Trevor fades away.

His Trevor smiles, kisses him again, and straightens back out to talk.


End file.
